


Marks of Pain

by 1000lux



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: August crushing on Jax, Dealing With Trauma, Depression, Jax lives, M/M, Post Season 7, don't you just love it when you're the only one writing for a certain tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 08:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: Alternate ending to season 7, where August saves Jax. Because let's be honest August always had a major crush on Jax.When a guy betrays you and you yell at him stuff like 'we could have been anything together' and 'never lie to me again' that's pretty obvious.





	Marks of Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own rights to the TV show or the characters.
> 
> Probably no one's going to ever read this story, because this is like premier league of rare pairings. But I ship them very hard. So there it is.

Jax doesn't know where he is, doesn't know why he's still alive. He was supposed to die on that road, the police after him. The room is half-dark, the blinds are drawn but outside it's day.

"You're dead, Jackson." A voice he's supposed to know says. 

He doesn't care right now. It's probably true. Tara is dead. He killed his mom. The kids are gone with Wendy. They don't need him anymore. The club doesn't either. They'll be fine, just like his boys. He covered all angles. It's okay. He can sleep now. 

And he does.

*

He doesn't know how much time has passed when he wakes up the next time. He doesn't have the energy to get up and take a look out the window. There's food and a glass of water on his nightstand.

*

"No one cares where you are. No one is looking for you." The voice says again.

"Okay." Jax replies. Because it is. It makes sense.

*

August lets him sleep all day, lets him lie in bed and stare at nothing. He has time. The fallen Son has nothing to lose. He belongs to him now. And he can wait. Jax has surprised him. Again and again. Proving both smart and dumb. Most of all unpredictable. And there was even a brief moment when August thought he was really going to kill him. But that's not going to happen, is it?

Pope always told him that this is his biggest weakness. Took him in nevertheless. Didn't give a shit about that. Unless it became public. August never let it become public. August Marks had no one and cared about no one. No family. No attachments. No weakness. The deadliest man on the street.

He can't say he's waited for this to happen. Not at all. But it has been a long time since anyone interested him enough to stop him from killing him once he became a liability. Actually, it has never happened before.

August always prided himself for being smarter, stronger and overall better than all those other guys. For being all this and gay. All those little street-thugs who thought they were the shit, even though he had them on strings and all those who had managed to keep most of their business legal, who liked to talk shop in their country-clubs, who thought they were so smart and still were jumping to August's tune, they all are jumping to his tune.

It is stupid to let your personal ties control your life, even more your personal proclivities.

Then Jax Teller had happened. And he'd killed Damon Pope and gotten away with it. August had known it was him. And he'd been impressed.

Pretty, cheeky, blond Jax Teller. With his baggy pants, his swagger and blue eyes. Who walked around with the demeanor of a teenage boy and juggled with powers that had controlled the streets and the underworld for decades, without getting burned. Who played and played and won. Who had shown more insight and sense than anyone he'd worked with, for a long time. Who'd impressed even Damon Pope and who'd outsmarted him.

And then Jax had gone completely off the bent. For the first time Jax had made stupid decisions. Short-sighted plans. It had been easy for August to figure out Jax was behind what happened to the Chinese. It only spoke for Jax' poor state of mind that he really thought the Chinese wouldn't figure it out as easily.

August had been disappointed. Truly disappointed. Disappointed that Jax wasn't as smart as he'd thought he was. Disappointed that this threw to waste everything he'd planned for them. The things he'd have been able to achieve with a like mind at his side.  
Funny enough, the betrayal had hurt too. Which was ridiculous, because he didn't let such things get to him. Hell, he'd basically shaken of Pope's death. And the man had been like a father for him. But, Jax... He'd thought there was some respect there. He'd thought Jax wouldn't deem him so fucking stupid. He'd thought they'd something to build on. He'd liked Jax. He was fascinated by him. The plan with which he came to him had been smart. It was thinking beyond their motorbikes and guns. Jax knew how to survive, how to get on in this world. It was aspiring. And the execution of the plan, the ruthlessness and determination with which Jax followed through with his plan, getting the club out of the weapons trade, making the Irish Kings work with August, it was virtuoso. The way Jax knew no prejudices for which color to work with, didn't give a damn about traditions and rules, but stuck to what was sensible. Jax Teller, who was far too beautiful to be this smart. August had wanted him. No shame in that. No way he would have ever acted on that. No, but he had wanted to work with him. They could have built an empire together.  
But no, Jax had shown that he was just a dumb and irresponsible fuck, like all the rest of them, when he burned down the vision he'd had and destroyed every relationship he'd had. That would have been the time to kill him and fix things with the Chinese. Instead he only punished Jax. And that was really, really not like him. But he had wanted to keep Jax. Had wanted to make him feel how much his betrayal had hurt him. Wanted to make sure Jax never dared to go against him again. But, bottom line, wanted to keep him.  
But, oh, Jax had gone against him again. Not a day after August had held a gun to Jax' head, Jax had played and played well. Had sent August to jail. Had killed his security team. He hadn't seen that coming either. But at that point there was really no way he could kill Jax anylonger. Because suddenly, after years of silently laughing at other people, August Marks had something he wanted to keep.

He had watched Jax' tailspin. Watched as he tried to repair the damage he'd done to his club, to his family. Watched as he fixed it at the expense of himself. All he had to do was watch until Jax had no one. Until Jax was no one. And then all he had to do was grab him. He hasn't decided what to do with him yet, but that doesn't matter. He has time now. They both have. Jax Teller is dead to the world.

*

It takes some time until Jax even bothers to think about the situation he's in. There's a bandage on his right hand, he realises only now.

"How did you get me?"

"I have a few paid cops. Took you down with a tranquilizer gun. Calculated risk. Of course several of them weren't real cops. You didn't honestly think I wouldn't be able to replace my security team, from inside prison?"

Jax shrugs as if it's all the same to him.

*

"What do you want with me?" Jax' voice sounds exhausted, tired, weary. A voice Jax is far too young to have.

"Not to kill you, if that worries you." August chuckles. "Even though, I doubt that matters to you."

"Want to cut some pieces off me then?" Jax doesn't sound concerned about that prospect either.

"Jackson, if I wanted any harm to come to you, it would already have."

"So, you just wanted to stop me from commiting suicide?" Jax voice sounds slightly disbelieving, the biggest display of emotion he's shown since getting here.

"Yes." August smiles again. He gets up. Enough for today. "Go back to sleep, Jackson."

*

"Going to sell me off to the club or the kings?"

"Neither."

"Is it that you want to gloat then?"

"Maybe a little bit." August shrugs. "You'll figure it out."

"Trying to get me back into the game then?" Jax asks with tired amusement. "I can tell you you're wasting your time. I'm done."

"I think you're not even halfway done. But no, that's not the plan either. Relax. There is no plan."

The plan was to keep you alive, Jax. Everything else is optional.

*

Jax doesn't smile anymore. It shouldn't be an objective to make him smile again but it is. Jax used to smile all the time, since the first time August met him. Always cocky. Always self-assured. Always sure he's going to come out on top.

*

Jax mustn't leave the house, there are too many people who'd want his head, if they knew he's still alive. But August needn't have worried. Jax never even tries to leave the house. He goes to the in-house gym. He swims in the pool in the basement. He goes in the garden. Once August saw him cry in front of the rose bushes his gardener had planted last summer. But he never tries to leave the house. As if he were a ghost that's haunting these halls.

*

Jax spends a lot time crying, once he's resynced with himself enough to acknowledge that he is still alive no matter how much he sleeps, no matter how much he acts like a ghost.

*

"Do you have sleeping pills?" Jax asks during breakfast.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" August asks, eyebrow quirked in curious amusement. It's the first thing Jax has asked him for.

"No."

"I guess I'll have to believe you."

"You don't have to do anything."

*

Funny enough, with the return of clarity sleep won't come anylonger. So he just lies in the darkness watching the speckless white wallpaper. Only the sound of his breathing there. Reminder that he's still alive.

*

Jax guesses he could leave if he really wanted to. But what for? So he stays. Has breakfast with August. Sometimes dinner. Forces down breadrolls, while August curiously watches him over the rim of his newspaper.

*

"I didn't think you'd try to take such a weak and pathetic way out."

"You were wrong then."

Jax doesn't jump to his bait, just shrugs carelessly.

*

He crouches in front of Jax, where he's slumped down on the bed, crying. He puts a hand to Jax's cheek.  
Now Jax does look genuinely startled. Nevertheless he leans into it, when August's hand moves to his neck to pull him forward.  
There's no indication of actual crying, except the heavy breathing and the wetness on August's shoulder.

"I can't help you, Jax. Only you can do that."

*

It hits Jax one day like a sledgehammer and he wonders if it isn't already days too late. Days and days he spent in a stupor.

"What are you going to do to my club?"

"As far as I know, it isn't your club anylonger. Your friend, the Scot, has asked to see me, ever since he learned of my not so fatal shooting. Alvarez is receiving his weapons from that traitor you're protecting. So technically, The Kings would still be free for me. Except for the fact that they didn't like me to begin with and you as our liaison betrayed them. Maybe I'm going to destroy your club and kill their traitor to reduce the bias they hold towards me."

"Is that why you kept me alive? So I can watch the death of my friends? Just kill me in whatever gruesome way pleases you and let them be."

"I don't know what kind of picture you've been getting from me, but I don't take pleasure in torture. I simply do what's necessary. And unlike you, Jackson, I am able to wait."

*

"Was it worth it, Jackson? Saving your club."

"Nothing of it was ever worth it." Jax answers with his tired old man voice. "Nothing. But it was too late when Tara died. After that it didn't matter anylonger."

"Not even your sons?" August asks curiously. He doesn't get that attachment himself. He never had the urge to procreate. But then, he never put much stock on shared DNA in general.

"I killed their mother. Do you think I want to kill them too?"

"A little megalomanic, wouldn't you say so? You couldn't have known what would happen."

"Yeah, I could. Even fourth-grader already learn in school what happens to criminals."

*

With his face freshly shaved and his hair without gel, he looks about ten years younger than before, when it's said that grief makes you age.

*

"I've met with Mr. Telford today."

"You're seriously telling me you have no hard feelings at all?" Jax asks exasperated.

"Do you?" August asks, already knowing the answer. All hard feelings Jax has these days are exclusively directed against himself.

*

August throws him a red leather-jacket he's never seen before.

"Come on," is all he says.

They get into August's limo.

*

"What is this?" Jax asks, as they stand in the hotel room.

"I thought you might be bored of sitting in the house all day." August says. "Don't try to run away, Jax." He adds, as he throws him his keycard.

*

"Jax." August crouches down beside Jax.

Jax again leans over the toilet seat, throwing up.

"Jesus," August brushes Jax' hair away from his face.

"Here." He hands him a glass of water.

*

He's the ghost August takes with him wherever he goes. It's a miracle no one's recognized him so far. But then, they're not in Charming. Not even in Lodi.

*

Jax moves slowly towards him, experimentally, and leans in to put a soft kiss to August's lips. He holds the connection for a moment. Then he moves away again.

"I think I figured you out now." Jax says pensively. "That's what you wanted all along." He smiles knowingly.

August feels himself tense up.

Then Jax moves in again, one knee pushing between August's legs, their lips connecting anew.

"Are you playing with me, Jax?" August asks. "Because I wouldn't like that."

Jax lets go of him then, with a quiet snort. He turns his back to him, as he walks back to the bed and pulls his hoodie over his head, before throwing it on the floor carelessly. It's the first time August sees the tattoo.

 

"Well," Jax leans back into the pillows, snatching a smoke.

"Your first time with a man?" August asks.

"Yep."

"Pretty easy-going, in that case."

"'First time for everything."

Jax turns to the side, watching August. He exhales a cloud of smoke.

"What now?"

"What do you mean?" August asks.

"I mean, I was curious. And I guess so were you."

August doesn't really know either. Tonight was unexpected. Jax caught him by surprise yet again. Once more got the first strike in.

"You have nowhere to go." he says.

"That is true." Jax agrees.

*

August Marks isn't a self-conscious man. He's straight forward about what he wants. And confident that he'll get it. Still it's Jackson who makes the next move. Again.

Who walks up to him when August's just come home from a meeting, straight out of the gym, judging from the bandages wrapped around his hands and the white wife-beater clinging to his body with sweat. His feet are bare and almost inaudible as he approaches. August is still in a suit. Jax looks surprisingly carefree for his recent standards.

The kiss is maybe unexpected and maybe not. And August feels a little angry which is why he doesn't immediately respond. Angry that Jax is able to take him such by surprise, angry that Jax has this kind of power over him.

But then again not responding wasn't an option either. And he likes to think he's taken Jax a little by surprise himself as he grabs him and spins them around, lifting Jax off the floor, his back against the wall.

*

Jax Teller sleeping in his bed.

Unbelievable that he really has him now. Hot as hell. Moving with a casualness about his looks, his body. Walking out of the shower without self-consciousness, without feeling out of place. Lighting a cigarette, the towel still slung around his hips. His back arching as he takes of the sweat-soaked shirt after gym. Getting a glass of water from the kitchen after sex, stark naked, sitting back down on the bed, like he's always lived there. Like there's nothing at all out of place about them sleeping together. As if he wasn't broken and ruptured, the remains of the man, picked up by August, salvaged and taken away. As if all Jax Teller needed was this body, the beautiful, immortal shell of the man. Still able to function. Still there.

Jax has been worth replacing his entire security team. He's been worth the bruised rips and the fracfure in the shoulder from the bullet that went past his vest. August hadn't seen the destruction of his team. But he'd seen the attempt on his life. It was only the next logical step. Jax isn't dumb. Not as smart as August. Well, at least he likes to think so. No, it was clear that Jax couldn't let him get out alive. The ambush at the courthouse was foreseeable, just like the fact that Jax wouldn't shoot him in the head.

*

"Jackson."

"Call me Jax for Christ's sake."

August chuckles, pushing Jax down on the bed. "Jackson."

*

Jax is drunk again. Looks like hell. Did so all day, so probably August should have seen this coming.

"Do you need to stop?" August asks.

Jax smiles. "Don't worry, I'm not going to throw up in your car again."

He looks so fucking miserable, so incredibly desolate. When August had thought that things had gotten better.

 

They arrive at tonight's hotel. They of course have seperate rooms, even though August takes Jax to his, to make sure the other's alright.

The view from the 20th storey room is beautiful. August doesn't think Jax sees it, even though he's staring out the window into the night.

August doesn't leave after all. Because whatever Jax needs he gets these days. Lies there with that incredibly beautiful and conflicted man that has August wrapped around his finger more than he'd ever thought possible. All lean muscles and guilt that burned under August's fingers only moments ago. Now Jax rests his forehead on August's chest, as August's fingers trace the reaper on his back.

"I'll do you as long and hard as you need to forget your demons, Jackson." August whispers in his ear.

*

Inevatibly Jax meets his former brothers again. They are after all still moving in the same circles. They are overjoyed he's alive. And really confused as to why he's with him.

August would have thought that Jax would try to keep in contact with them, even if he can't return.

But Jax doesn't. After that chance meeting he stays away from them. Refuses their attempts to get in contact with him.

August is confused as to why. Of course he's officially still on the kill list for his club, but neither would the members of his former chapter try to enforce this, nor would the other chapters press for it, as he's one of August's men now. And the Sons respect that. Not his old chapter who refuse to accept his silence, but the other chapters certainly don't want to mess with August Marks. And the things is, August would protect him. If it came to it, August would.

So he doesn't understand why Jax still tries to punish himself by turning away his family.

*

And then Jax walks up to him, hands him a blowtorch and tells him to burn the tattoo off his back. And of course August refuses. Tells him to have it blackened out if the Sons insist on it. Jax assents and lets the matter be.

Until one night he comes back home, limping and sweating, face twisted in pain. And August understands even before Jax collapses in the hallway, even before he touches the bloodsoaked back of his shirt.

They spend the night in the emergency room. And August even stays once they've gotten Jax transferred to a room. Jax refuses to say who actually helped him with this in the end. It doesn't much matter. It's hard to blame the accomplice when in the end Jax Teller always gets what he wants.

August understands the self-punishing tendencies behind Jax behavior, is worried by it, but understands the reasoning behind it.

He stays even after the painkillers have finally put Jax to sleep.

And when the other gets home three days later, he kisses the bandaged back as the lie in bed at night, regretting that the tattoo is gone. Even though, this even more irrevocably makes Jax his and not the clubs anylonger.

*

And then there's time August knew would come, where Jax would ask him for a favor. A favor for his former brothers. Still trying to protect them. And August knows he might be pretty gone. But he hasn't gotten this far by giving in to emotions.

"And even though keeping you was some sort of self-indulgence, you're a fool to believe I'd endanger my business in any way. You're just a nice toy I got myself, Jackson."

*

SAMCRO doesn't request Jax's death, they ignore that he's survived the execution, that he's still roaming around. It is the Irish Kings who make a demand towards his life. And this is them moment where August should cut his losses, because no pretty face is worth that much trouble. And if August has learned one thing from Jax and Tara, than that your decisions should never, ever be dictated by such things as love or affection.

It's the Scot, who's now leading the chapter and one of the new Kings, McKenna, when they meet. He can see the panic in the eyes of the Scot when it comes to the request of the Kings.

August finds himself reasoning with him, finds himself trying to find a solution for the problem.

"What are you willing to do for the Teller boy?" McKenna asks with a sneer.

"Nothing." August replies, because there's a line that's not to be crossed.

He sees the last hope drain out of Telford's face, something like betrayal, which is ridiculous, because August Marks isn't responsible for Jax Teller, that's not some responsibility he's taken over from the club.

But as they leave, August pulls and shoots McKenna in the head.

"You just killed an Irish King." Chibs says. "For Jax?" he asks carefully.

"No." August replies firmly. No. He doesn't do things for anyone but himself.

And the Scot knows he's lying, and August knows he's lying. But he'll continue to do so, because no matter that he's seemingly willing to do anything for Jax Teller, it gives him some comfort to claim that it is not so.

*

And Jax stays in his life. And with time he stops being the ghost that follows him around and becomes a person again. A person with a life.


End file.
